


Goodnight Kiss

by patster223



Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)
Genre: Kissing Prompts Meme, M/M, Mild S3 Spoilers, pre-Rome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-03
Updated: 2020-06-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:01:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24515800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/patster223/pseuds/patster223
Summary: Wilde yawned and said, “So, do I get a kiss goodnight?”Grizzop sighed. “Ijusttold you to stop messing around."
Relationships: Grizzop drik Acht Amsterdam/Oscar Wilde
Comments: 12
Kudos: 52





	Goodnight Kiss

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the kiss prompt, "I almost lost you."

“There,” Grizzop said, closing the anti-magic cuffs around Wilde’s wrists. “Let’s see a curse try to get through _that_.” 

Wilde attempted to raise an eyebrow, though he seemed too exhausted to even manage that with his usual roguish charm. Instead, after months of barely sleeping—Grizzop was going to _murder_ the mages that did this—with bags under his eyes and a glazed stare, it just seemed...roguish.

“Even if the curse does get through these,” Wilde said idly, holding up the cuffs, “I suspect it would then have the horrible task of going through _you.”_

Now it was Grizzop’s turn to roll his eyes, though he noted that Wilde didn’t flinch back from the rolling red of his sclera like most people did.

“I can’t stop a curse,” Grizzop said shortly. 

“I know. But it seemed like a nice thing to say,” Wilde said. His words were stumbling, slightly slurring, as if he were speaking on autopilot. “Charm, Grizzop, wordplay—heard of them?”

“Nope,” Grizzop said, popping the 'p' in _nope._ “Now stop messing around and be serious.”

“The two are hardly mutually exclusive,” Wilde sighed. He finally reclined on the cot, the last minute of wordplay having apparently sapped the rest of his energy.

“You’re leaving soon, I assume?” Wilde said, closing his eyes.

“Now that you’re _actually_ fine? Yeah.” Grizzop tapped Wilde on the forehead with the tip of his claw until he opened his eyes again, then continued, “Hey, listen to me. I’m about to go out on the mission and won’t be here to look after you, so: _actually_ be fine this time, yeah?” 

Wilde blinked. “Are you...worried about me, Grizzop?” 

Grizzop let out a groan of frustration. “Argh--what are you--of _course_ I’m worried; I almost lost you!”

“Hmm,” Wilde said thoughtfully. Though he’d obligingly opened his eyes for Grizzop, they remained half-lidded, dragged down by months of exhaustion. 

Grizzop didn’t know why he didn’t just let the man sleep, at this point. It’s what a decent person would do. Though, while Grizzop was undoubtedly a righteous person and even a good person, even he could admit that _decent_ might be stretching it a bit. 

“What?” Grizzop sighed.

“You said _‘I_ almost lost you,’” Wilde murmured. “Not _we.”_

“I speak for myself,” Grizzop said. “But yeah, I’m sure the others would have missed you too. But they’re not here, so you just get to look at my grey mug and feel guilty about your whole ‘almost dying’ stunt.”

“Not so bad. It’s a nice mug.”

Grizzop shook his head, ignoring the slight heat in his cheeks at the—compliment? Snide comment? More wordplay? It always felt impossible to tell with Wilde. 

“Look,” Grizzop said, “you’re a part of my pack. Whether you like it or not, you’re my responsibility, you’re…”

 _Mine._ Grizzop didn’t say it aloud—didn’t often feel a need to voice the instincts of _pack_ and _hunt_ that Artemis had gifted him, not when he could just act on them—and Wilde was so exhausted that Grizzop doubted he picked up on how the sentence awkwardly trailed off.

Though, perhaps he _had_ noticed something, because after a moment, Wilde yawned and said, “So, do I get a kiss goodnight?”

 _“_ I _just_ told you to stop messing around."

“And I just told _you_ that messing around and being serious aren’t mutually exclusive,” Wilde said. His eyes were still unfocused, exhausted, but they managed to seek out Grizzop’s own and hold them for a strange, quiet moment. 

Wilde looked just... _terrible._ More tired and fragile than Grizzop had ever seen him. If Grizzop were one of Aphrodite’s lot, he’d surely want to scoop him up into his arms and hug and soothe him better.

Grizzop was _not_ one of Aphrodite’s lot, but he also had a feeling that, somewhere, she was looking down on this scene with a smirk.

Grizzop sighed, bent down—and wasn’t that novel, having to bend down to reach Wilde instead of looking far above his own head just to meet his eyes—and pressed a kiss to Wilde’s forehead. His mouth lingered for just a moment as he let out a small exhale. 

“Actually be fine this time,” Grizzop murmured again, before pulling away. When he did so, Wilde’s eyes were closed and his breathing had slowed.

Grizzop muttered a quick prayer to Artemis—let this stupid man be _practical_ for once in his life and just take care of himself—and made to leave the room, muttering a quick, “Goodnight,” before he went on his way. 


End file.
